That might explain why I cannot for the life of my figure out what "Chogüí" means....
But I shall discover it's true meaning one day! (cue dramatic music; visual of Dawson standing triumphant atop some random building with a giant flight of stairs)
I shall--(she stumbles and topples down the stairs off screen).
Rapid Fire
Words
shot
quickly
out
of
an
open
hole.
Wondering
quickly
aimlessly
pondering
where
to
go.
They're
spoken
without
thought
or
consent.
Before
you
know
it
away
they
are
sent.
It's
strange
to
consider
such
things
would
exist.
As
if
we
by
nature
would
think
these
legends
meant.
But
alas
they
are
real,
and
are
happening
as
we
speak.
They're
rapid
fire
words.
They
head
no
spoken
rule,
and
languages
seem
to
be
lost
in
them.
That
the
times
do
decree
that
all
of
us
must
be,
machine
guns
for
our
language
arts.
Spilling
out
these
words,
without
care
for
him
or
her.
That
such
words
would
seem
to
kill
our
walks.
But
hell
well
speak
it
anywho,
who
care
if
they
are
really
true.
It's
merely
mumbo
jumble
we
call
talk.
Is this the end now?
Will tomorrow not come?
Are the memories we have now,
a sign of what we've done?
Are the things we remember
the things said and done
a testament to people
of what we've become?
Have our purposes been met?
Were all the roads walked?
Every flower bloom cherished?
Every song bird hymn hummed?
Will we not see our family,
our friends or our loved ones?
Will tomorrow bring nothing
and today be the end?
I guess to live is
as though we were done.
That tomorrow will bring nothing,
and today promises none.
That to live is as though
today we would die.
That tomorrow is a dream
upon which we shouldn't rely.
The day brings surprises, joy and tragedy
And to live life thinking otherwise is to live a fallacy.
So remember my dear friends, not to sow the rain clouds,
the tempest or hurricane or even a frown.
For that which you sow, will be what you reap.
That life goes without notice for those who dare sleep.
Hmph
To none could we,
Better define,
The purpose for
All of mankind.
What we do here
Another could do.
Anything other
Is not true.
Stranger still
That’ll we’ll defend.
The accursed beings
That are humens.
But if it be
The will of nature
Who are we
To dare question her?
For greater power
Lies with her
Than ever was
With man on earth.
So to all of you
Who claim to be
Greater then
O' humble me.
You wont get more
Than an impatient nod.
And never less
Than disgrace from God.
Because no one ever
quickly cease as,
The arrogant fool
Who makes himself an ass.
Humility
Remember the humble, the meak, and the bland.
Remember the lost, the scorn, and the barren.
Forget not the accursed whom you've drove from the land.
Or the food you've denied to share them.
Listen to the dead trees and the song the dead bird sings.
Tread lightly on the cracked ground
and utter not a word of ill felt speech.
Walk humbly amongst the proud and the arrogant.
Think nothing in the prescense of the haughty and proud.
Remove yourself from those of high stance.
Cover deeply your face in veil and shroud.
But above all look not towards yourself.
For those whom you reject outward,
you must reject inward aswell.
I'll wait for you
Hello their stranger,
Why so far out in the distance?
Come on closer let me look at you
If but just for an instance
You will see.
That all I wish to be
Is your friend.
You seem tired
Was the journey you were taking
Long and arduous and effortful?
Don’t feel rushed I’m here to listen
It’s what I do.
All the time found in the world,
I have for you.
Tell me the stories
Of the towns that you have visited
All the people that you met and saved
And the songs of you they listen.
Tell me all.
Spare not a detail of your life
Not a single one.
What is it now?
Are you hungry? Are you thirsty?
Don’t you move from where you sit,
It won’t be but just one second
I’ll come back
I’ll have everything you asked,
And you’ll be glad.
But sadly you were gone,
The empty chair was all you left me
The rest you needed now you have
And now you’ve seem to run
So far away.
I don’t know what else to say
I’m dead in side.
100 years are gone.
And still I’m standing here and waiting
For just one hope of seeing you
I’ll stand another 100 years or more
Just for your face.
I’ve got nothing to live for.
It’s all empty space.
If you return
And I’m not here please forgive me
It was too long for me too wait
And my heart has gone and left me
That it did.
Just leave your farewell by the bed.
I’ll come again.
Maybe one day when you’re not running
Cause you’ve stopped to listen
You’ll hear my voice calling for you
Far out in the distance, “Where go you friend?
Stop and spend some time with me.
We’ll have it good.
Like real friends should.”
What a fool think we
That thinks he can hide.
From the fast paced enemy
Whom we call life.
That the folly be
And error define
That he runs from
Friendships
Love
Death.
And though we as foolish
And yet we still judge
The fool of the haughty
The arrogant
The proud.
The fighters,
The hopeless,
And yet they trudge on.
From the empty life
To the fullness of death.
What good does a flower
To their eyes seem?
Whose bud would blossom
And though beautiful be,
That it blossoms for no seer
It blooms without care.
It lives not for purpose
That which fills our air.
Or the blade of grass
Which grows so small
Live not for a goal
Though it may grow tall.
But to grow to be cut back?
Or plucked from the ground.
What difference makes it
If in war or not
We die all the same?
From the littlest blade
To even the darkest shade.
What passes in life,
Will continue to pass.
And what thinks it to stay
Has yet to accept
The futility and waste
The riches proclaim.
For the dead and the living
Are one and the same.
Holy Spirit Dove
And Lo, I saw
a dove from heaven fall.
Who's snow white wings
did grace the sky above.
And stole from me a
breath so rightly so,
and from my soul
the life escape from me.
His shadow, by the sun, the world eclipsed.
Blinding all the lowly human gaze.
And brought upon a darkness yet not seen.
Until the humble fold of its feathery wings.
And thus it walked with pride and princely state
A beauty from above bestowed.
But sadness fills the heart to know
That a dove from heaven a silent journey made.
Still Love
What good does love
To a lover be
If it is not shown
Nor given to he?
Or more so why love?
If all that you’ll do,
Is let it brew inside.
Like a withering shrew.
What love, ever true,
Was ever denied?
Shunned from the light,
Into the darkness preside.
What lover
Ever resound,
To let his mate go away
While he still stuck around?
What a flower
---ever flower
Blossom beauty
-silent ripples
--swaying- - -breezes in the wind
swaying ripples
patch of flowers.
Grass of blade
green of emerald.
Dancing-running-
far-
---away.
Cruel wind kind---, distant friend.
Dead in winter-
born again.
Bird of song dance-
-and praise
Dead bird singing---Life’s
-own end.
--Endless song
Live bird sings
Hums of tunes
---In our heads.
Constant beats
-of our heart
Ever
rhythm
of
our
soul.
Today I tripped
and hard I fell.
Skinned my hands
that cried red.
Patiently I tied them
in cloth of equal red.
So that no one would see,
That I had fallen.
The pain though was unbearable.
it stung and burned with broken pride.
But I struggled to get past the watchful people.
Whose ever piercing stare broke my soul.
When finally alone, I removed the cloth.
Whose light red had become dark crimson.
I looked upon to see my hands no more.
And in their place the senseless feeling of bones.
What fear did grasp, complacency repressed.
What emotions cried out, silence struck down.
What soul reached out with hands of life and hope.
Were cut by reality and flesh.
So pieces fall when I hit hard.
Identity lost when I err.
Pity the man who skeletal be,
but perceives that he is still a man of flesh.